


Civilisation

by mydogwatson



Series: Postcard Tales II [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogwatson/pseuds/mydogwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not easy being the British Government.  Or Sherlock's brother</p>
            </blockquote>





	Civilisation

**Author's Note:**

> I thought maybe it was time for a little Mycroft. And honestly, when this title came up, I thought of him immediately. Enjoy.

Mycroft Holmes lived his life by the rules.

Well, of course he did. As the British Government [yes, Sherlock had it right, although why he felt the need to advertise the fact was unknown] Mycroft had to be guided by certain principles. He had to present a civilised face to the world, but it was really more than that, because Mycroft also truly believed that without rules there could be no worthwhile civilisation.

He understood that simple fact very well and had since the age of eight. Not that it had always been easy, even then. One was constantly tested by having a vague, gentle, and rather forgetful father, as well as a mathematically gifted and yet ferociously affectionate mother. And, of course, there was the burden of having a baby brother who blatantly disregarded any and all rules from the very moment he discovered they existed.

Sometimes it felt as if he were the only Holmes capable of holding back the ravaging hordes. It was a difficult task, especially for an eight-year-old.

Of course, there were good rules [tea only in proper china cups and no nuclear weapons unless absolutely necessary] and bad rules [but those did not really matter because, as the British Government, he could ignore them]. Even better, his position made it possible for Mycroft to decide which rules were good and which bad. Very convenient.

Sometimes, when he was sitting with a proper cup of tea, he would be quietly pleased that it was Mycroft Holmes who arranged the world as it should be.

Not that it all went smoothly, even now.

Yes, Mummy and Daddy were settled in the bucolic countryside and therefore mostly neutralised. Mostly. Although Mummy had her moments. In fact, Mycroft took a moment to scribble a note reminding himself to up her surveillance. Not to protect Mummy, of course, but to stop her from taking any precipitous actions if she discovered who had shot her boy. Things were liable to be unsettled for a time and he did not want to take any chances.

There was still Sherlock, of course.

And the Koreans.

But mostly Sherlock.

There had been a time when Mycroft almost believed that the situation with his brother was very close to being settled.

Yes, a little kidnapping had been involved, but no harm had been done.

John Watson had been impressive, even at first glance. Mycroft was not bothered at all by the limp or the tremor or even the nightmares. Especially the nightmares. Watson was a doctor and had been a soldier, more of a soldier, actually, than even Sherlock knew; two callings that required a certain talent for following the rules. Which is why, for a time, Mycroft thought that having John Watson with Sherlock in 221B would act as a restraint on his brother’s worst impulses.

Even now, his blindness on the subject of Watson made Mycroft sigh. Watson craved the battlefield, he’d known that from the beginning, but still…after all, there were rules, even in war. But apparently exposure to Sherlock infected some people [or at least one person] with a peculiar strain of madness.

Amazingly, neither time nor distance or even betrayal served to cure the victim.

Maybe only death would.

Watson’s death, of course, because Sherlock’s certainly had not done the trick.

It was all very worrying.

Mycroft glanced at his watch. It was later than he had thought. He finished the Macallan 25 in a single swallow. Which was a violation of a [personal] rule, of course, but needs must.

Sadly, despite what some people [Sherlock, John, Mummy, Daddy} thought, Mycroft Holmes was not actually omniscient. There were, indeed, limits to the power possessed even by the British Government. Luckily, Mycroft was extremely skilled in the art of diplomacy and confident in his abilities. Still, he was human and subject to some of the same weakness as others of his species, much as that dismayed him. Now, for instance, he was distinctly nervous.

Mycroft stood up, smoothed the front of his suit, and picked up the file marked Top Secret, although in reality it was no such thing. As acknowledged, sometimes he broke the rules. With no further delay, he left his office and paused at Anthea’s desk. Carefully, he set the file down. “Do what needs to be done,” he said quietly. “Set the plan in motion.”

She nodded without saying anything.

Then Mycroft left for his meeting with Lady Smallwood and the rest of the committee waiting to decide his brother’s fate. Possibly it was too sentimental for a man like him, but Mycroft sincerely believed that the world was a better place with Sherlock Holmes in it. Sometimes civilisation needed a rogue to get things done.

And on this day, Mycroft was not willing to have his heart broken.

Time to break a few rules.

**Author's Note:**

> Title From: Civilisation by Clive Bell


End file.
